


Running The Gauntlet

by rebecca5031



Series: Adding a Black [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Beauxbatons, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Durmstrang, F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 02:56:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17072174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebecca5031/pseuds/rebecca5031
Summary: Follow's the Adding A Black Series. Regulus's son finally gets the opportunity to go to Hogwarts.Disclaimer: I only own my own charaters and ideas.





	Running The Gauntlet

_October 29_ _ th _

 

The corridor was a place of dodging and weaving around both students and random projectiles alike. In a word; chaotic. The portraits all seemed ignorant of the activities taking place below them, unlike in Durmstrang where they acted as enforcers of the rules, here, they appear to only use the school as a venue for their antics.

 

This corridor in particular seems to be free of the ‘feud’ between houses, he mused. All different coloured ties occupied the halls, green and blue, red and yellow. They seemed almost harmonious in the lightened walkway.

 

Turning the corner as instructed by his cousin, he sees a large mahogany door. Happy that he was not tricked by the young Malfoy he strides forward confidently, avoiding a large walking tower of books as she goes about her day, eyes barely peeking above the tomes. Hesitating he turns to help her only to be beaten to it by two identical ginger haired wizards. Mollified that the witch had ample aid, he continued on, shivering minutely as he passed through the silencing wards. 

 

_Wow._

 

Study tables, already occupied, were nestled throughout the ground floor, boxed in and separated by full bookcases. Stain-glass windows shadowed over the students seated there, bathing them in different hues of reds, greens, yellows and blues. Bay windows offered views of the extensive grounds, the forest on his left and the quidditch pitch through a window to his right.

 

Walking forward he observed the labyrinth of books offered to Hogwarts students, stacked horizontally, vertically and diagonally, all in different levels of decay- bound in cloth, leather and everything in between. Fading red wallpaper peeked out from the small areas where books had not yet taken up residence. Chandeliers hung overhead and helped illuminate the areas that would otherwise be obscured. The room held the same ethereal quality that he associated with the library in his own ancestral home. 

 

A volume zoomed past, skimming his left ear. In shock, he turned to follow it on its path up and up onto a shelf high above him on the polished catwalk. The students there seemed to lack the diligence of those on the ground floor as they quietly chatted amongst themselves and leaned on the banister for support. There was a general ease in the library, with all scholars unanimous in their efforts to be quiet-ish and get their work done as quickly as possible. 

 

Deeper into the library he discovered the source of his ear-clipping. Books were flying like birds from the large, round librarian's desk in the center of the room, up to the shelves where they each supposedly belonged. The woman was lazily flicking her wand as she perused her novel, uncaring of who was harmed in her efforts to return the books to their respective nooks. A cart was constantly being refilled by tentative students, who clearly did not want to disturb the librarian, all seemingly petrified of the pinched faced woman.

 

Wanting to go to the higher floors he wandered around, getting more and more lost in the maze of bookcases. Finally, he reached a wrought iron staircase caught between two shelving units. Mentally applauding himself he started the steep climb, finishing above the second floor and onto the third. Curious he ambled deeper into the belly of the beast, occasionally brushing the tips of his fingers across the floral mouldings on the ceiling. He was so deep into the library that there was a light dust coating on the selves. It was only displaced in random intervals, presumably by students who wished to delve beyond the shallows of their interests. 

 

A book arch entered his line of vision. Its softly rounded edges in contrast to the sharp corners of the hallway. The green velvet couch through the doorway was more than enough temptation for his now aching feet. 

 

Wary of any warding spells he crossed through the threshold and was pleasantly surprised to not feel the brush of intruder wards or the thick thud of privacy wards. The room was dark and dim, so, feeling brash he sent a small _Incendio_ towards the unlit fire place and to the oil lamps dotted around the room.

When nothing catastrophic happened, he smirked to himself and went about cataloguing the room.

 

It was richly furnished and a quick _scourgify_ made it shine with the opulence it once possessed, though the worn patches on some of the cushions could not be remedied. The chess set on the low-rise coffee table was complete and in status, the portraits were empty but boasted of famed potioneers such as Dzou Yen and Golpalott.

 

“Ah, you there!” He turned stiffly in the direction of the voice only to find the bust had become animated. 

 

“Yes, you. Do not worry you will not be reprimanded, I do not often meet people who understand me, I only wish to converse with you.” The head continued in oddly accented German.

 

Stepping closer to the bust he sees the white marble man’s moustache twitching with every word.

 

“Ah, right then. Introductions! I am terribly sorry I cannot shake your hand; I do hope you will forgive me. My name is Phillipus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim, though you may know me as simply Paracelsus” 

 

“I do, it is an honour.”

 

“Now, young man, you are not wearing the Hogwarts school uniform. Why _is_ that?” the statue raised a brow.

 

“Em, I am from Durmstrang Institute. I am here for the …Tri-Whiz- Triwizard Tournament. I arrived with the other delegates.”

 

“Oh, brilliant a Durmstrang man! How is the school fairing, you know I did a stint of lectures there back in the 1520’s when I was living in Austria and I have to say…”

 

\---

“So where did you wander off to?” Vaclav asked.

 

Caelum had finally escaped the talkative sculpture silently vowing not to wander back into that room until the thing had been removed or broken beyond what a _rep_ _ero_ could fix. 

 

“I would much rather _not_ talk about it” he mumbled from behind the goblet he had plucked from the table. 

 

It was lunch time and Hogwarts had laid out some fruits, bread and other light snacks. Given that they have a fairly temperate climate he didn’t expect to see any of the heartier foods that Durmstrang fed them. The longer he could avoid Griebenschmalz the better in his opinion. 

 

“Off woo-ing some young thing out of her robes then?” smirked Eetu from his left. The boy was tall and blond with a strong chin and stronger nose.

 

“Good thing you sisters are back home, eh zlatíčko?” jested Vaclav.

 

“Shut your mouth. As if they would lower their standards enough to even look at you!” Eetu jibed back at his friend, his grin still firmly in place.

 

“No, but if only we were so lucky!” Vaclav sighed with a distant look in his eye.

 

A well-placed kick from Caelum earned him a sharp glare, but he was saved from a speech about the freedom of choice and sexual liberation when his younger cousin called out for him.

 

“Caelum, come over here and sit with me- I’d like to introduce you to some of my friends!” the fourteen-year-old practically shouted when compared to the dim murmur that most of the Slytherin table where conversing in.

 

His two friends sniggered at his misfortune and waved him off, not needed any excuses.

 

The Black heir towered over his diminutive counterpart, complete opposites in almost every way. While the young Draco did have a Black for a mother, it seemed as though his father’s genes had won out overall, though one could see some Rosier in the curve of the younger man’s mouth. Caelum on the other hand was a cookie-cutter version of a Black male. With his dark hair, grey eyes and broad shoulders, he was a gemino of his paternal grandfather.

 

The younger would of course have time to catch up height wise, but Caelum privately thought it unlikely given that he was already taller than Lucius. That didn’t stop the annual comparison of the two at Yule though.

 

“Hello Draco, how are you?” he asked. 

 

“I’m well, thanks. I just thought you would like to meet my friends, I know you’ve already met Blaise and Theo. But this is Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Greg and Vinny, this is my second cousin on my mother’s side- Caelum Black.” He gestured proudly towards him. 

 

Both Greg and Vinny didn’t seem that impressed with the display- they were apathetic to it really, not that Caelum minded, but Draco most certainly did because he followed it up with a, “you know, the heir to the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Black,” as if that would peak their interest. 

 

When that too didn’t seem to hit the mark as it was supposed to in Draco’s mind he huffed, scowled at the duo and slammed back into his seat. Caelum took the seat beside him and nodded at Nott and Zabini who both nodded back. They knew each other from the equinox parties he had gone to in England over the years. His mother always insisted on attending when Narcissa hosted, leaving him with the company of his cousin and his friends.

 

He didn’t mind the two. Whenever they were forced to intact they were quiet and polite. Which is probably why the Malfoys wanted their loud and boastful son to be friends with them. They most likely thought that their son would mimic the other two, instead of becoming the group’s de-facto ring leader.

 

Caelum spend the rest of lunch hearing all about the fourth-year gossip Hogwarts had to offer. He learnt about the blossoming romance between a Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw, and more importantly how awful that was. 

 

Caelum was subjected to countless questions about his school. Some he answered truthfully, others he exaggerated. One young witch had asked if it was true that someone had snuck a Joimârița with them on the boat and let it loose in the Forbidden Forest. Feeling a bit impish he told her she would have to wait and find out, and with a stricken face the young Zoe Accrington ran off the library to finish her Charms essay.

 

Feeling like his good dead was done for the day Caelum stood, gave his goodbyes and returned to his friends.

 

“What did you say to that girl- I know you’re not that repulsive,” Eetu inquired. And wasn’t it a blessing to not have to speak in English anymore. While Caelum wasn’t awful at the language he didn’t have enough practice with it, and because he left his translation talisman on his bunk he kept misunderstanding the slang they used. Since when did ‘word’ mean ‘I agree with you’?  

 

“I decided to neither confirm nor deny if a Joimârița was brought with us and let wild in the forest outside. Her teachers will thank me,” he laughed. 

 

 “Her mother will probably send you a thank you note for that one!” guffawed Eetu.  

 

\---- 

_October 30th_

“You are all expected to place your name in the Goblet of Fire to do your duty to your families and your school. Anyone who does not do so will be sent home by international portkey and shamed for the rest of their education.  Courage brought you this far, now it is in fates hands.” Their headmaster looked them all over with a glint in his eye. 

 

They were gathered outside the rooms where the goblet was placed. The Eastern Europeans made up a group of thirty strong, all with hope in their chests. 

 

“Line up,” Karkaroff growled.  

 

Like a line of ducklings following their mother so too did his students follow Karkaroff. Each armed with a piece of parchment baring their mark they marched into the blue tinged room. The goblet was on a stone pedestal in the center of the hall, with students lingering on the side-lines. Someone- most likely a Hogwarts professor had conjured benches for the spectators to sit on. 

 

The audience was mostly younger pupils. The children too young to participate but keen to be a part of the event. When they walked in two grey haired old men were being escorted out by their elbows by a surly looking teacher. The elderly men where spitting curses at each other from the younger woman’s back while she dragged them out with thunder across her face.  

 

Unsure of what was happening and more than certain his cousin would delight in telling him at dinner Caelum paid them no more attention. Following the procession, he put his slip of parchment in after Iren Bathory. After doing so he muttered a quick prayer to Dažbog for luck. Hopefully birthday prayers were answered quicker than normal ones.

 

_Notes:_

Zlatíčko- a Czech word that roughly translates to sweetheart  
Joimârița- Romanian mythical creature that, punishes lazy children  
Dažbog - Slavic god


End file.
